Pineapple Weaponry and Kissing at the Door
by awabblertoday
Summary: Day 25 of 45. Shawn goes to Lassiter's house for a kiss while the detective is polishing his weapons. T for... Suggestion?


A/N: You can see how many of my Author's Notes are/probably will be around the same, and I may start to copy and paste them. Being said, it doesn't allow me to own any characters (unless stated otherwise) any more than normal. I'll admit, the title needs working. ? I'm actually super busy this week, what with my finals and the kids' assignments/talent shows/play/games/etc. I won't give up on this fandom challenge because it is a lot of fun writing it and I don't want these givens to quit.

Fandom: Psych Pairing(s): Shassie Words: 1,244 Warning(s): aggressive yet yummy slash

The last case had been hectic and slightly arousing for one psychic detective. He hadn't shown it, but he had loved watching the police chase furry golden labs and bulldogs instead of the other way around. Not only were the three victims Furries, but the killer was also. The first furry was a dog breeder by day, the second owned a pet shop, and the third hadn't been killed. The killer, a dogcatcher by day, held the tasering collar over the third victim a veterinarian and his cousin as the police had froze. Shawn couldn't find Lassie in the crowd but held back nonetheless. Out of nowhere, his favorite detective slammed into the man in the dog suit, pummeling him to the ground and whipping out his gun. Shawn found it tantalizing, and gave Lassie props once he had calmed down.

After said case, Lassie stayed at work. Shawn, on the other hand, desperately needed a booster. He had gone to Tom Blair's for some liquid courage. He had been talking with the bartender about his dilemma who informed Shawn how much he reminded him of a younger version of another regular customer. Shawn briefly wondered about Lassie at that comment, but pushed it out of his mind and ordered another round. Leaving the bar, he began to walk down the streets, wobbling only ever-so slightly. He still knew his way around and most of him knew exactly where he was headed.

Lassie hadn't been able to sleep for the past few nights. This night isn't any different. He had felt something when chasing down the Furry. He doesn't care much for costumes and role-play, but he is dominant and it was empowering considering the entire case was basically a coated sex parade. Still, he hasn't been able to take a nap stretching more than twenty minutes at a time. He had been sitting in a small, comfortable chair his wife had left behind, beneath a dim light.

He had tried to read a book about the Civil War, rather than something more calming, but his heart hadn't been in it. He didn't care for watching Christmas specials on the television, so he had been left with his wandering thoughts as he polished his weaponry. He didn't have it all out, only some of the bigger guns and knives to make him feel powerful once more. He had been cleaning out his old rifle a gift from his grandfather after his father had left and reloaded it when there had been a staggering knock on the front door. Taking a look back at the clock and recognizing the little hand on the one, he knew only one person in the world would out-of-nowhere arrive on his doorstep after one in the morning.

Still, he had carried the rifle to the door, opening it wordlessly with said weapon. A small smirk had appeared and quickly disappeared on Lassie's face as he had seen Spencer jump a little in surprise. He hadn't cleared the balcony and got back on his feet, very close to Lassie. The detective had lowered the weapon, holing on by one hand and crossing his arms in annoyance. Shawn hadn't tried to come in, but continued to open and close his mouth like a gaping fish. Lassie could smell the odorous alcohol from where he was standing and wished Shawn would just say something so he can get back to his lonely night.

Instead, Shawn had hurriedly closed the gap between them. He had been on his tiptoes, but still pulled a little on Lassie's shirt and delivered a sloppy, wet kiss. Lassie hadn't relented on opening his lips and his body stiffened. The gun was dropped, luckily with the safety remaining, and Lassie hands were in the air. Shawn had continued to kiss Lassie, frowning that the other man hadn't been kissing back. Soon as Lassie had control of his body again, his hands had strongly gripped Shawn's shoulders.

Backpedaling in his mind, Shawn quickly stops and wrenches away. He doesn't move any more though, attempting to avoid looking Lassiter in the eyes. This had been his Christmas wish: to give in to the dangerous temptation. Lassiter's hands freeze around Shawn's waist, locking him in place in case the younger man decides to make a run for it. There has always been a spark between the two of them, Carlton knows this.

"Wow, um, I think I was supposed to have mistletoe or something." Shawn mutters, unsure of what to do or say next.

"There's parsley in the dumpster." Lassiter comments softly.

Shawn flushes but grins a little. He then sniffs the air, finding a familiar aroma lurking nearby. Lassiter obviously knows what the younger man smells and his face reddens a tad. He keeps one hand positioned firmly on Shawn's waist while the other reaches to collect the fallen gun. He holds it out in front of Shawn, who only looks at the detective strangely. He keeps sniffing and realizes the smell is coming from said gun.

"Why does it"

"Pineapple-scented gun polish." Lassiter answers while rolling his eyes.

"Have anything else in there, pineapple-scented?"

Shawn is suddenly flung forward as Lassiter ushers him into his house and out of the cold. It is then Shawn realizes the older man is barely clad. He is wearing a light green robe, but beneath it, there is a stained white tank top and plaid blue boxers. The detective places his gun on a rack on the wall and gestures to his open couch. The young Spencer gratefully takes the spot and is shocked when Carlton returns with two mugs. He sets them on the coffee table, having to move a few knives, and sits down next to him.

"You're in here now," Lassiter hands Shawn a mug and subtly sniffs his hair. "And you're pineapple-scented."

"Thank you for taking notice." Shawn chuckles. "Y'know Jules is on a date tonight."

"Yes, I'm aware."

"Do you know who she's dating?" Shawn asks smugly.

"She says she's gotten back together with the haughty son-of-a-bitch Declan." Lassiter pauses, watching Shawn smirk and take a large gulp before continuing. "But I know she's dating Guster."

As predicted, Shawn chokes on the hot liquid and begins to sputter. No one had told him; he had simply figured it out on his own. Gus doesn't even know he knows. Does he? As the coughing fit dies down and Carlton mops up what had spilled, Shawn wheezes and fixes Lassiter in a pointed stare.

"No one told me, Spencer. I'm a detective, you know. I can," He pauses again with a self-  
gratifying smirk. "Sense these things."

"So you're psychic now?" Shawn raises his eyebrows.

"As psychic as you." Carlton doesn't skip a beat.

Shawn moves a little closer, allowing his hand to brush along Carlton's thigh. "So, psychic, know what I'm gonna do now?"

Lassiter chuckles with a predatory glaze over his eyes. He sets his mug down amid his pineapple-scented weaponry and turns to face Shawn.

"You are going to find yourself in a new relationship, Spencer."

He answers in a sultry, passionate voice, though originally attempting to sound like a charlatan. He aggressively whips around and pushes Shawn until his back reaches the cushions completely. Shawn's breath hitches as he feels Carlton's body heat against his own. He can feel hot, pressured kisses biting at his skin sure to leave marks, branding him as Lassiter's. Before long, Carlton's lips make it across Shawn's in a hungry, needing passion. At a soft gasp, Carlton makes his move and maneuvers his tongue down Shawn's throat.

The phony psychic moans in pleasure, allowing a shudder to freely flow throughout. It vibrates against Lassiter, which prompts him to go farther. Abruptly, he stops and pulls himself from the couch. Shawn looks up to him with helpless, saddened puppy-dog eyes. Without a word, Shawn inches off the couch and prepares to make his way toward the front door. Shocking him, Carlton swiftly grabs the back of Shawn's shirt, dragging him farther into the house and toward the staircase.

"C'mon, Psychic. Bedroom's this way."

"Bedroom? Lassie?"

Lassiter rolls his eyes at the way Shawn's shine at the new prospect. He allows himself to smile with a little less sarcasm. He pets Shawn's hair a little, forcing him to turn and face the detective. They stare into each other's eyes for a moment, reassuring themselves that this is real and has been pined for secretly for quite some time. Shawn is pulled into another lasting kiss before Lassiter takes Shawn's hand, tugging him along to the bedroom.

"This is the best present ever." Shawn exclaims like a child who had gotten exactly what he wanted for the holidays.

Carlton laughs a little more freely. He leads Shawn into his bedroom, and then turns around to shut and lock the door. He traces his hands around the younger boy's waistline, sniggering slightly at the obvious anticipation.

"Merry Christmas, Shawn."

[][][][][][] This was actually going to be a completely different story. I had the first two paragraphs on an outline for this really angsty piece. I never got around to writing it and then this much better little story popped out of my mind. I absolutely love the idea of Shawn and Lassiter together, and Jules and Gus make a pretty good Beta couple. Yknow, in the background. Mentioned at least. Let me know if you liked! I love reading reviews! This has been Day 25 of 45. [][][][][][] 


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